Stains
by CabbahLovah
Summary: The pain was unbearable. Until he came along. He picked up the scattered pieces of me and placed me back together. That was until my past came back to haunt me. (Major Cabbie,future lemon, violence, mature themes)
1. Rough Starts

**Hey, so I deleted my other stories because after reading The Boy Who Sneaks In My Bedroom Window, I got a fanshamstic idea and I wanna finish that before any of the others. Okay, in this story, pretend that Robbie's family gets along, kay?**

**Enjoy**

I remember walking home from my friend's house at nine o' clock when he popped out of from the sidewalk. He was dressed from head to toe in black, and wore a zip-up hoodie. He smiled at me. I weakly forced my lips up, returning it. I turned on my heels the other way when he pulled me. He pulled me into a bush on the sidewalk. My screams weren't loud enough for anyone around to care.

He carried a sharp knife in his left hand, and held it to my throat as he pushed me onto the ground. He grabbed both of my arms and pinned them to the ground. I try to wriggle out of his grasp, only for him to push the knife closer to my throat. He pulls my jacket off, as I lay there, defenceless. He reaches underneath my shirt and feels me. I scream as loud as I had ever screamed in my life. He slashes my wrist, ejecting thick red liquid, the colour of my hair.

I cry for help. He cuts me again. He forces his tongue into my mouth. I bite his tongue. So he cuts me again. He unbuttons my blue jeans as I jam my finger into his mouth. So he cuts me again. He takes off his pants as I try and scurry away. He catches and cuts me again.

I'm so freaking scared. He doesn't understand what he's doing to me. Am I just some body that he'll dispose of? Am I nothing? He rips all my clothing off. Shit. This isn't assault. This is rape. I am just a body. He's tearing my clothes off as he tears me apart. I'm no longer a kid. I'm no longer a human being. I'm a fantasy of some twisted man's dreams. I'm just a disposable body. He's using me. I can't do anything about it. I shove a twig inside him, only to be sliced open. What do I do now?! Do I let him enter without a fight or do I fight back? No, there's no freaking use. He'll just cut me until I bleed to death.

Maybe I should just let him do that. I'm now worthless to him. I've been used, and now it's time for me to be thrown out. There's no reason for the world to have another bipolar red head, annoying everybody. I have no purpose anymore. If I'm just a 'garage' for this man, then what am I to the rest of the world? I'm nothing. I'm freaking nothing. I bet my friends wouldn't care about me if I left the world. If I bled to death. That actually sounds like a reasonable option. I'll just bleed to death. Then no one would have to worry about getting special medicine for me or taking me to my mental health doctor. I'll just disappear. No one will care.

He enters. I hate to admit it's not a horrible feeling, but it's still rape. It's still the disposal of someone. I scream loudly, this time stopping his blade with my elbow. Shit. That was a crap idea. My elbow is the most sensitive part of my body. Yep, I'm done. Goodbye world. I've stained the leaves with blood. The plants are going to die because of me. He finally finishes with my body, and runs off quickly into the far night.

I lie there, naked, horrified. My face is damp with tears and my body dripping in blood. I reach for my clothes, and slip them on, being careful not to anger any of my wounds. I limp onto the road, staying in the shadows. The car lights blind my eyes. The streetlights highlight my cuts. Building lights illuminate my wet face. Many people pass me on my way home, and stare at my messy hair and blood-stained clothes. But no one cares.

No one freaking cares. A ten year old girl is walking down the street, covered in blood and crying, and nobody cares enough to stop. I guess that's New York for you. Even though my house was only two blocks away from my friend's, this happened. I got turned into a useless, empty shell that has served its purpose to a strange man. I rub my forehead to soothe the cut I had received there. I close my eyes and there he is. His scruffy stubble, his crazed eyes, his power-hungry hands. I abruptly open my eyelids, not wanting to remind myself of what had happened just twenty seconds ago. I limp up to my driveway and remember no one is home. And I have no key; the offender having stolen it.

I look to my right, to the Shapiro's house. I've never really met them, except for seeing their afro-haired son sometimes. I should go there. I mean, even though I don't know them, I'm sure that they'll be kind and offer comfort. So I find myself knocking on their door with my exposed knuckles, leaving drops of blood on their white door.

A warm light was flooding from the rooms, making me feel safe. The house was beautiful, orange brick and black slated roof. I guessed that they were a happy family; I saw the same man and woman come out of the house every time. Very unlike my family.

Most people would think that the Valentine household was all chocolates and rainbows. Oh, shit, it was different. See, my parents are divorced. Mr. Valentine is in Los Angeles somewhere with a new woman he can use. My mother remarried a man who I think hates me. Whenever he sees me, his green eyes study mine, as if I was some pathological killer and he was convicting me with his stare. My real father was much the same. He blew up at my mother when he found out I was bipolar. He blamed her for my dizziness and walked out. But I was only four then, and didn't realise what had happened.

My mother on the other hand, was kind-hearted and helpful, like a mother should be. But sometimes she just made a mess out of everything. Like when I wanted to work on my pirouette for ballet class, she pushed me harder and harder until I snapped my ankle. He smothers me with so much love it hurts. I sure hope that the Shapiro's would be the good kind of helpful.

The door opened to reveal a warmly smiling woman wearing a dark green laced top.

'Can I help you?' she asked, smiling. She then looked up and down my body and gasped. 'Oh, dear, what happened? Come in, come in.'

The lady took my by the shoulders and led me into her living room. The walls were painted light beige, and the walls lined with cute little pieces of artwork. The house smelled of roasted chicken and mashed potato. A boy who looked my age, occupied a third of their brown couch. He turned his head to face me when I walked in. His hair was fuzzy, as I remember it and he wore black, rectangular glasses. I assumed that was the young son my mother had told me about, Robbie or something. To his left, a tall man with black bobbed hair sat on the sofa. He face looked immediately worried when he saw my cuts and wounds.

'Sit down, sit down,' he rose from his seat as the lady moved me towards it. She plonked me down next to the son, he looked as if he was about to cry.

'What happened, deary?' the lady asked, still rubbing my shoulders. I sucked in the warm air, holding back the tears that I knew would flow. I gasped a few times as my wounds started to sing.

'Um…well…I was walking home and this man came….' I felt uncomfortable to say the rest of that sentence, and figured that the man and woman knew what I was going to say.

'Where are your parents?' the man asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of me.

'They're out, looking after my brother at his doctor,' I replied, between breaths.

'We have to get you to the hospital! And the police station!' Robbie cried, fear evident in his voice.

'No, no, no,' I answered, pushing his shoulders down. 'I don't want anyone to know,' I told. The woman gasped, then clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

'I understand,' she consoled, nodding her head. The man nodded as well. 'You should stay here tonight,' the woman suggested.

'I couldn't ask for that,' I debated, shaking my head.

'We're not asking,' Robbie replied, smile lighting up his face.

I nodded, 'Thank you, but where would I stay?' I asked.

'You can stay in our guest room,' the man answered.

These people are so kind. They're letting _me _sleep in their house. They're letting a stranger, who just got assaulted to sleep in a guest room, in warm sheets, in no danger. I can't sleep. I can't do it. The man is going to come again in my nightmares. Crap, I'm going to sleep in their house without sleeping.

After mending to my wounds and cuts, the pair told me about themselves. The lady's name was Linda and the man's Daryl. Linda, Daryl and Robert. I like that. They told me how they met; at a Rolling Stones concert in Florida. Their eyes locked and they immediately fell in love. I thought it was really cute.

Linda leant me a pair of her pyjamas, and even though they were far too big, they made me feel safe and warm. They tucked me into a bed in the guest room. The room was a pale blue, with faint stripes of purple in it. A huge window lied on the right side of the bed, curtains heavily blocking them. It was strange to feel so at home without being at home. I felt like someone cared about me. It was a warm and kind feeling to have.

I tried to make myself fall asleep, but every time I close my eyes, I see him. He haunts my thoughts now. I toss and turn under the sheets, forcing myself to stop thinking. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. I will never again be able to sleep. And apparently, the sound of the rustling covers was loud enough for Robbie to hear.

He showed up at my door, with an annoyed frown. I got up from the bed, and walked towards him. He did the same, but his eyes weren't angry. His chocolate irises were full of sadness. He pulled me into a tight hug, squeezing me in places I never want touched again. I try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he doesn't budge.

'Robbie, let go,' I command, pulling the collar of his shirt. But I realise how much this hug meant to me. I burst into tears, digging my eyes into his shoulder. He rubs my back comfortingly, making me feel safe. I feel like I've stained his shirt with my tears.

'I'm not letting go until you stop crying,' he tells me, running his fingers down my hair.

I don't. I cry for the whole night, running out of tears only at eight in the morning. And Robbie didn't leave. He didn't get annoyed with me and go back to sleep, leaving me crying by myself. No, he held me all night. He made me feel safe.

And that's strange for a stranger.

**Eh, eh, you like it? It's gonna get reeeeaaalllyyy angsty in the next chapter, so hold onto your hats.**

**I like reviews, so, maybe review it?**

**Yeah, you know you want to.**

**Just do it.**

**Dooooo it.**

**NOOOWWW!**

**Or don't.**

**But please.**

**Yes please.**

**Anyway, baaaaiiii from me.**


	2. New Beginnings

**Ah, I'm so sorry this took so long! I feel so bad D:**

**And Alisha, sorry, but you need to reeeaaadddd, cuz I gave you a warning and you didn't listen, bro. Not cool.**

**||Robbie||**

'I'm not letting go until you stop crying,' I tell, as she wails into my shoulder. My parents had told me before what Cat meant. I just can't believe it happened to this girl. I looked down at her head, magenta hair draping over her skull. In the occasional times I saw her exit her house, she had a bright smile on her face, effervescent and charming.

It wasn't a fun sight to see her like this. Bandages wrapped around most of her body, blood stains visible. I don't know what monster would do such a cruel thing to such an angel. I had to admit it, she was beautiful. Her face shaped round and perfect, her skin (apart from the cuts), smooth and clear. I loved her eyes, her big brown eyes. I'd seen them only a few times, but they always shimmer with hope and glee. It was strange to see them filled with pain and fear.

Cat let out one loud cry into the cuff of my shirt, causing me to hush her and pat her back gently.

'Sh...Sh…Cat,'

'I can't stop think about it,' Cat tells between sharp, quick breaths. She brings her eyes to mine, irises glistening in the worst way. The veins in her eyeballs were a bright red, and her eyes puffed and swollen. 'The way he whispered. The way he forced my hand. How he forced his hand. The way I screamed when he sliced my flesh open. I'll never be able to sleep again, Robbie,'

She continues crying, making my shoulder damp and salty. But I don't mind. I feel a sense of protection. I don't think I had ever talked to Cat in my life before this, and I really regret that. She seems like a genuine girl, who was the wrong place at the wrong time. I can't even imagine the fear she must've felt, being forced to do something so evil, so sinister.

'What are we doing? We're like, strangers,' Cat asks into my shoulder. That is an excellent question. What _are _we doing? It's not like we've known each other for years or whatever. We've practically just met, and here we are at 2:36 am, together, in her room, with her crying, and we're only ten.

'I'm helping,' I finally utter out. I try not to make it sound too weird, but I don't do a very good job. I'm doing my best to help, even though I'm not sure it's doing and good. I mean, I guess it should feel good to know that someone will be there to catch you if you fall. I'm not sure if it's creepy or seemingly stalker-ish to do this to someone you basically met. But that won't stop me from doing it.

'Yeah?' Cat lifts her head, and directs her eyes to mine. Her eyes are just gorgeous. It's amazing how much they make me smile.

'Yeah,' I nod and smile.

Cat & I grew extremely close after that night. She would sneak into my bedroom window every evening so I could hold her. Every night she spent alone ended in screams and cries of pain and fear. It made me feel so powerful to know that Cat can't live without me. She's such a sweet girl, and I'm the one keeping her alive.

She's still horrified, even after six years. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees his wild eyes. She only ever calms down in the comfort of my arms. It's horrifically strange to have a power like that in my hands. The first night, Cat managed to fall asleep while I rocked her back and forth. I feel asleep as well, and that kind of started a system: She would come in, and we would fall asleep together so nothing could hurt her.

But, of course, only we were the ones who knew this. Who knows what would happen if our parents find out that two kids who were strangers spent a whole night together, crying with each other? Especially now, since all those stupid teenagers are sleeping around and getting pregnant and all that. Besides, I would **never **do that to Cat.

To be completely honest, I kind of have developed a tiny, weensy little crush on her. Just maybe I like her. Maybe just a little bit.

But it's not like I'm ever going to tell her that. That would just be awkward. Life seems to have gotten slightly better. Except for the fact she cut. She would thrust a razor into her skin almost every night. And it was a shame I found out by looking at her arm. And now, every night I check her arms for signs of cuts or self harm. Three years clean. I'm so proud of her.

She now takes her loss as a gain in strength. They always say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And Cat's taken that into account now, probably with the new atmosphere and sense of security. You see, about three years ago, Cat's father (who still doesn't know about her ordeal) gained a business promotion, and that meant moving to Los Angeles.

And of course, Cat didn't take it very well. She got so confused. She exclaimed that she couldn't live without me in front of her and my parents. And I think that's the moment I fell. That moment….that just warmed my heart so much. I guessed I was blushing to the point to where it looked like a tomato. She made me feel so needed. So loved. It gave me a fuzzy feeling inside that made my heart pound. And I guess that's how I knew.

At first, our parents were like freaking out cuz they thought we were secretly dating or something like that. But, we managed to convince them it was because our friendship was so strong. So, my mother and father decided to move with Cat and her family.

My family rented an apartment exactly one floor below Cat's, fortunately having a fire escape for easy sneaking. I'm still amazed she's managed to sneak in almost every night for the past six years. But I guess it's not like every single night has been perfect and we've gone the whole time without a few bumps.

But she doesn't sleep over. And others don't sleep over. Don't get me wrong, Cat's a social butterfly; she just has a hard time sleeping or being in a dark room without protection. Which I find slightly strange, considering she's best friends with the scariest person I know.

And that brings me to school. We both attend a performing arts school; Hollywood Arts. Cat immediately made a billion friends, and I was kind of alone. I only had two real friends besides Cat. And even they tease and ridicule me. One has long hair and is seen to be 'attractive' to most girls. The other is obsessed with music. It's kind of nice to be seen with somebody that girls like, because it kind of makes me feel like I'm getting some attention.

As it was inevitable, we grew apart slightly, and barely saw each other. There were a few instances when I had to go a whole week without seeing her at school. In the day, Cat was a distant stranger, but at night, she was my best friend. I'd become quite close with her brother, who suffers from the same disease she does, only is affected a lot more.

Cat's my best friend. And I'll never be the same without her.

It was just a regular gloomy day in the Hollywood Hills, and I was lounged on the Valentine's couch, watching 'Celebrities Underwater'. Cat was sitting on the other side, with her legs slung over mine. She seemed to be using the television on as background music to the sound of her tapping thumbs on the phone screen. She's probably texting her friends.

'Yo, Kitty, we got the whole day to ourselves,' I tap her leg with mine, trying to break the trance between her and her PearPhone. Both of our families are out today, so Cat and I have the whole day to ourselves.

She doesn't even look up.

'Kitty.' I repeat, trying to catch her attention. She raises her phone so it blocks her face. God, 'Kittaaay.'

'What?!' she questions, annoyed.

'We have the whole day to ourselves,' I tell her, sitting myself up.

'And?'

'Aaaanddd…..we're going to do something with it. Come on, get up,' I hold both my hands out to her. She sighs and rolls her eyes before taking my hand and standing up.

'So, what are we doing?' That is an excellent question. I really have no idea what we could do. I guess we could see a movie, go skating, go bowling. Oh wait, that's a great idea!

'We are bowling,' I tell her, leading her out the door.

'Bowling?' she questions as I lock her door with my key.

'You heard me,' I sling my arm around Cat's shoulder and smile. She giggles slightly and turns to face me.

'You know I suck right?'

'Yep. That's what will make it so fun' I bounce off towards the brass elevator, chuckling to myself. It was very true. Cat was absolutely horrible at bowling, but she wasn't bad enough for it to be awful, just enough to be entertaining to watch.

'Meanie,' she tells me, faking a pout. I laugh to myself.

'Now now, what did I say about names, Kitty?' I waggle my finger at her as if she was a child as she presses the elevator button.

'Stop calling me Kitty!' she protests, stomping her feet.

'Sorry, Kitty,' I tease, poking my tongue out at her playfully. She retaliates by sticking her middle finger up at me. 'Now now, no need to get feisty,' I pat her finger down as she giggles. Wow, Cat. That wasn't cool. I hate pretending that I'm fine with things.

The elevator dings, and we step into it together. A wave of silence comes over us. The elevator jolts as it descends.

'I'm sorry about that,' she tells me, her eyes full of guilt.

'Nah, don't worry about it,' I swing my head over to face her.

'No, that was uncalled for,' she apologizes, pouting. I sigh.

'I don't care.' I tell her, punching her arm gently.

'And that's what I love about you,' she chirps, smiling widely.

Ugggghhhhh. Why does she keep doing this to me? It's hard enough having a crush on your best friend, but the fact that she loves you makes it worse. Sigh.

I smile at the ground like some douchebag who isn't doing a very good job of hiding his feelings. Oh wait, that's what I am. But my stupid brain still hasn't told my stupid heart whether or not I love Cat more than a friend.

I repeat: ugggggghhhhh.

**Yeah, yeah, this chapter sucked but idc.**


	3. Bowling Blues

**Ugh, me and my procrastination… I am so very extremely sorry guys. But I have made a promise to myself to write a little bit every week and hopefully get into the habit of updating once a week/fortnight. Ugh. I am so sorry. I'm terrible okay.**

**Ugh…..I feel terrible. Lemme make up for it by making the chapter the best I can (not that I don't already do that), but yeah, he's chapter three of Stains.**

**||Cat||**

Robbie opens the passenger's door for me, and invites me in with a courteous hand movement. That boy.

'So what bowling alley?' I question as he clicks his seatbelt.

'I dunno, _the _bowling alley,' he replies off his shrug before turning the key. I giggle in response. Robbie always made me laugh. He made me feel safe. If it wasn't for him, I would be…cutting, crying, insane. But I'm not. Thanks to him. He kept me safe every night, reassured me that I'd be okay.

But still, that doesn't stop the thoughts. He's there. He's always there in the back of my mind. When I close my eyes, all I see are his. When it's silent, all I hear is his maniacal laughter. He's always with me. He worked his way into every day of my life. Yet, I still don't know him.

'Nice. _The _is my favourite one,' I reply, smiling. He chuckles and puts his foot on the gas.

I used to cut though. For three years with my mom's razor blade. I couldn't help it. It just took away another part of me that was hurting. Another drop of blood filled with fear out of me. Another part of my conflicted heart gone.

I was horrible the first three years after the incident. I would push everybody away and scream and fight with anyone and everyone. People tried to help me. People tried to make the pain go away. But I was convinced that only another life would take the pain away. That man robbed me of my youth. Of my innocence. I was giggly and bubbly up until the age of eight. Until twelve from then on, I was depressed, suicidal and rebellious.

I would pray every night that something would just take the pain away from me. I guess God listened. He sent me an angel. An angel with fuzzy hair. And I loved that angel with all my heart. With every ounce of my being. With every drop of blood outside and within me. He took away my nightmares. He filled them with hope as they were before. And without him, I'm nothing.

I wouldn't be here. I would have nightmares every time I closed my eyes. I wouldn't be able to be anywhere alone. People called me a bitch, slut, whore, emo, freak, pretty much anything they knew would hurt me. But they didn't know anything. They don't know anything. Well, at least he taught me that.

'Hey, Kitty, you okay?' he reaches over and rubs his thumb over my hand.

'Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine,' he retreats it and returns it to the steering wheel.

That's the thing; I am fine. I actually am. With him around. No one can touch me when I'm with him. He makes sure of it.

_*Flashback*_

_This candy store never really had any of the good things. But apparently, one man thinks differently. He gazed in my direction and looked me up and down before approaching me. I looked around for Robbie, but he was all the way at the counter. Oh crap. What do I do now? Oh stop worrying, Cat, he's probably buying Hershey's or something._

'_Hey,' he purrs, leaning on an arm placed above a shelf. _

'_Hi,' I reply politely._

'_How you doin?' he looks me up and down once again, causing me to shiver in disgust._

'_I'm doing just dandy,'_

'_How old are you?' he asks, playing with the tips of my hair._

'_Actually, I'm—'_

'_Leaving now,' Robbie interrupts, pulling me away by my arm. Thank the Lord. He leads me outside the store and looks straight into my eyes. He crosses his arms. And obviously, he's mad at me. Great._

'_What was that?' he questions disapprovingly._

'_Chillax, Shapiro. I was just gonna say 'Actually I'm going now, I have to get back to my Dad, the cop,' I answer him. He searches my face for any signs of mistruth or trickery. Obviously he found none._

'_Ugh fine, __**Valentine**__. But don't ever do that again okay? It scares the shit out of me,' he replies, looking a little hurt._

'_I'm sorry, Robbie. I'll be more careful,' I rub his shoulder._

'_It's alright, let's just forget it,'_

_*End of flashback*_

**{{0-0}}**

'Hey, we're here,' I shake my head and disappear from a candy store back into a parked in front of a bowling alley.

'Okay, yay then,' I exclaim, unbuckling myself.

The bowling alley is just as I remember it; loud and dark. And smelling of sweat and rented shoes. Bleccch. Robbie leads me to the counter where we pay a ridiculous amount of money to just be told by the forces of nature that they hate us and we suck.

'And what size for the girl?' the lady at the desk asks. I'm too busy figuring out the reasons why I hate this place to notice.

'Oh, sorry, I'm-'

'An eight,' Robbie finishes my sentence. I stare at him weirdly. 'What? We've known each for eight years; I think I know your shoe size,' he whisks the bowling shoes off the counter and I smile at the ground. I guess that's a pretty good excuse. He leads me to the lane we've been set. Robbie's due to go first, so I just watch him get a strike.

'And….that's Robbie Shapiro's seven billionth good bowl!' I exclaim half-heartedly.

'Come on, Kitty. I'm sure you've gotten better,' he reassures, patting my back as I pick up a bowling ball. Why are these things even this heavy? It's like throwing a round rock. Whatever, Valentine, suck it up.

I take a deep breath, bend my knee slightly and release the ball. It rolls off to the left and into the gutter. Nice. I hear Robbie stifle a laugh in the background.

'Shut up, doofus,' I scold, pointing a finger at him. He raises his hands and mocks horror, making me giggle.

'Here, I'll help you,' he bounds up from his seat and grabs a ball for me. He puts it in my hands, and places my fingers in the holes correctly. He stands, behind me and places his hand on my hip, making me blush. Ugh, he's your best friend. Grow up, Cat. He then guides the way I should be bowling.

I get a strike. I jump up in joy and attack him in a hug. He happily chuckles as I pull away from him.

'You're happy,' he states.

'Yes, but because of you,' I poke his stomach playfully and he swats my hand away.

'Whatever, idiot,' he answers, rolling his eyes.

'Rude,' I state, crossing my arms.

'Anyway, it's my turn,' he pushes me to the side, causing me to stick my tongue out.

He bowls with a proud look on his face. I laugh very hard. Straight to the gutter. I point and laugh at him, and he looks at the ground shyly.

'There's wind in here,' he lies.

'Sure there is. It's called the wind of karma,' I explain, still laughing at him.

'Okay, Kitty, I guess we're even,' he submits. But I am still not satisfied.

'No we're not. Not yet. I'm gonna get you back. You better watch out, boy,' I tease, mocking suspicion. He looks a little worried, because he knows that I always keep my promises.

'Should I be scared?' he takes a step backwards and I see fear growing in his brown eyes.

'No, silly, I'm not going to do anything bad!' I slap his shoulder.

'I'll believe that only when my life ends,' he answers.

'Seriously? It's been eight years and you still don't trust me? What kind of a friend are you?'

'I've known you long enough to know you keep your promises,' he replies. Aw he's such a sweetheart. I'm glad he's my best friend. He clears his throat and continues, 'Anyway, let's get on with the bowling,' he suggests.

**{{O-O}}**

Just as I thought I would, I failed. Badly. I only ended up with 30 or something points, and Robbie got to 110. I guess bowling will just never really be my thing. Just like any sport really.

And of course, Robbie felt the need to rub his bowling skills in my face. Even though he's my best friend, I still hate him sometimes. I guess that's how strong friendships work. You don't know how tough it is until it's tested. And over the years, boy oh boy has it been tested. From stupid video game arguments to trust issues. And we've survived all of them

I guess I'm a lucky girl to have a friend like him.

And, just like most boy/girl friendships, there have been some _I've never really noticed how cute he was_ moments, and to be honest, there have been points in time when I was convinced he had a crush on me. But I probably would never date him. I don't know what I could do without him.

He's my lucky charm. A real one. Nothing hurts me with him around. And if I lost him, I don't know what I could do with myself. I'd be a mess. I'd come crawling back to him in tears, trying to convince him that I could not live my life without him. Which could not be any more true.

Ugh, Cat, stop thinking about the bad things that might happen. Think about the good things that will happen. You're happy and ditzy anyway. Smile.

'Oh yeah, baking cupcakes cuz Cat's too lazy to get up oh yeah,' Robbie starts singing. I turn my head around on the couch and turn to look at him attempting to bake. He has flour all over his face.

'That's not how you bake, you idiot,' I march towards the counter covered in flour and egg. I pick up a wooden spoon and clump some lumpy batter in it. 'You bake like…' I bring the bottom of my spoon to my index finger and bend it backwards. '**this**,' I smile devilishly as I watch the lumpy cake mixture fly right onto Robbie's face. I can't see his expression, but I can tell it's not happy. Oh boy.

He brings two fingers from both hands to his eyelids and wipes the batter off.

'You asked for it now, Cat,'

**Hehe, did you like it? I thought it was really cute and fluffy ^_^.**

**Again, I apologise for being the worst person in the world and not updating because I'm terrible.**

**Take care, guys **


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